


Samantha's Turn

by JohnAmendAll



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 10:11:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnAmendAll/pseuds/JohnAmendAll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In our universe, at the end of <i>The Faceless Ones</i> Samantha Briggs turned right and walked out of the Doctor's and Jamie's lives. What if she turned left?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Episode 1

**Author's Note:**

> Seven scenes, one for each episode of _Evil of the Daleks_.
> 
> We can speculate endlessly about how _Evil of the Daleks_ would have been different if Pauline Collins had stayed on as Samantha. It's quite possible that Victoria, or perhaps Mollie, would not have existed. In this version, though, I've kept them in.

"Hey! Doctor! Jamie!" 

Samantha was running across the car park in their direction, one hand waving wildly, the other holding her preposterous hat onto her head lest it blow away. 

"What's wrong now?" Jamie wondered. 

"Never mind that, Jamie, we've no time to lose." The Doctor hadn't even bothered to look round, his mind seemingly closed to anything except his stolen TARDIS. "Taxi!" 

Samantha reached the pair at around the same time as the taxi did. The Doctor dived into the vehicle, dragging Jamie with him, and hastily ordered the driver: "Follow that car!" Then, as the taxi began to accelerate, he relaxed slightly, looked around, and seemed to realise for the first time that their party had an extra member. 

"Samantha!" he exclaimed. "Whatever are you doing here?" 

"Aye," Jamie added. "We thought you were going home with your brother." 

"Yeah," Samantha said. "So did I. But... I know he's my brother, and I'd do anything to keep him safe, but he can be so annoying sometimes." 

"You had an argument?" the Doctor asked. 

"A row. Shouting at each other right in the middle of the airport, with everyone staring at us. He wouldn't believe me!" Her voice filled with anger at the thought. "I told him what we'd done to save him and all those other people, and he said I was just making it up, and I'd made a lot of fuss over nothing, and it was my fault he never got to go to Rome with his latest bit of fluff. The whole thing was just– ugh!" She clenched and unclenched her fists. 

"But why'd you come after us?" Jamie asked. 

"I dunno. I was beginning to wonder if I **had** imagined it all. I wanted to see you again, just to make sure it was real. And then I saw you running and I thought: Something's going on." 

"Something is, right enough," Jamie said. "Someone's stolen the TARDIS." 

"What's one of them when it's at home?" 

"It..." Jamie glanced at the Doctor, lest he be hushed for saying more than he should. "It's our ship. It travels in time and space." 

"Give over!" 

"No, I mean it." Jamie put his hand on her arm. "That's how we live. The Doctor, and me, and Polly– Well, not Polly and Ben any more. Now it's just us two. We go to all sorts of places and times." 

"Time travel!" Samantha took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. "If you'd told me all that a couple of days ago, I'd have, well..." She tailed off. "Actually, I dunno what I'd have done. Explains a bit about you, though. So, someone's nicked your time machine?" 

"Aye, that's right. And we reckon yon fellow we're chasing has something tae do wi'it. You're lucky you caught up with us when you did." 

"Oh, you don't get rid of me that easily, Jamie McCrimmon. I'd have got another taxi and come after you. Whatever's going on here, I'm gonna help you sort it out." 

Jamie looked at her determined face, and decided that he needed to appeal to a higher power. 

"Doctor?" he asked. 

"Yes, Jamie, what is it?" the Doctor asked patiently. 

"Sam wants tae come with us and help us find the TARDIS." 

"And?" 

"Well, can she?" 

"Hey!" Samantha interrupted. "Don't talk about me like I'm not here. Look, if it wasn't for me those Chameleons would've killed you and all those kids. You need me and that's final." 

The Doctor leaned across Jamie and took Samantha's hand in his own. 

"Please, Samantha, do think carefully about this," he said, his voice low and serious. "I'm not sure exactly what we're up against, but I'm sure that it's dangerous." 

Samantha opened her mouth to protest, but the Doctor continued. 

"I know we were nearly killed back at the airport, but that isn't what I'm talking about," he said. "There's something about this business that makes my skin prickle. And that really isn't a good sign. 

"Even setting that aside, if you do decide to travel with me, there's a good chance that you'll never see your brother, or your family, or anyone you know, ever again. You heard Jamie mention Ben and Polly. They were lucky. They got home. But not everyone who's travelled with me has been lucky." 

His eyes held Samantha's for a few moments. 

"Yeah–" Samantha found her throat was dry; she swallowed and started again. "I've made up my mind, and you're not going to change it. You're special. You do things no-one else can do, and I want to be part of those things. I'm coming with you, whatever happens." She forced a smile. "And I'd be mad to let a handsome fellow like Jamie slip away from me, wouldn't I?" 

The Doctor let go of her hand again. 

"Very well," he said. "If you really are sure. Jamie, you'd better let Sam know what's been happening." 

He turned all his attention back to the car they were following, while Jamie eagerly took up the tale. 


	2. Episode 2

Samantha struggled back to consciousness, to realise that wherever she was, she wasn't alone. There were people in the room, talking. 

"I think the young lady's waking up, miss," a woman's voice said. 

"Yes, so I see," another woman answered, sounding cool and disdainful. 

"Sam?" That was Jamie's voice. Samantha forced her eyes open, to see a shadowy figure bending over her. 

"Yeah," she croaked. "That's me." 

"Drink this," Jamie's voice said. "It'll do you good." 

A cup was put to her lips. She drank; the contents were tepid and tasted vaguely unpleasant. It seemed to help, though. The blurred figure in front of her was now recognisable as Jamie. Behind him, she could make out two other women; a maid, and a tall, striking-looking woman, apparently about thirty years of age. Around them she had the vague impression of cabinets filled with porcelain, and occasional tables laden with knick-knacks. 

"Won't you introduce me, Mr. McCrimmon?" the tall woman asked. 

"Oh." Jamie looked flustered. "This is Samantha– Miss Samantha Briggs. Sam, this is Miss Ruth Maxtible. Her father owns this house." 

"What happened?" Samantha rubbed her aching head. "Last I remember we were in that antique shop." 

"I don't know either," Jamie said. "And the Doctor's nowhere to be seen. There's something going on round here and I don't like it." 

Ruth coughed sharply. "Mollie, will you take Miss Briggs upstairs and find her something more suitable to wear? And after that, bring us some tea." 

"Look," Samantha said. "You're not getting me out of the way on some excuse while you have your wicked way with Jamie. Say what you've got to say and then I'll see about getting changed. Not that there's anything wrong with my dress. Six pounds twelve and six in the Littlewoods sales and you won't find anything better in all of Liverpool." 

"I'm sure your garments are the height of fashion there," Ruth said, her tone suggesting that as far as she was concerned, the entire population of Liverpool might as well be savages who, given half a chance, would go without clothing at all. "But you are now in Kent, and a certain decorum is expected. And if it will set your mind at rest, Miss Briggs, I merely wished to say that your friend the Doctor is currently with my father and Professor Waterfield, and is expected to join us shortly." 

"Och, there's no point in arguing," Jamie said. "You'd better do what he wants." He held out his hand to her. "D'ye need a hand? That gas–" 

Samantha waved his offer of assistance away, and climbed, rather groggily, to her feet. 

"All right," she said. "Lead on." 

The maid at once led her through various hallways, staircases and passages, chattering the while. Samantha kept up her end of the conversation with half her mind, trying to make sense of where she was. Everything here was just like in that antique shop – old designs, but newly-made. And all wood and metal, no plastic. 

"Is there a phone here?" she asked, at the next convenient opportunity. 

Even as she spoke, she realised the place was getting to her. She'd asked if there was a telephone, not where it was. A place this big would have to have a phone, wouldn't it? 

"A what, miss?" 

"Telephone? You know?" Samantha looked at Mollie's baffled expression. It was all too plain she didn't. 

Mollie curtseyed. "I'm sorry, miss. I've never heard of such a thing." 

_Might as well go for broke, then,_ Samantha thought. "What year is this?" 

"What year?" Mollie gave her a strange, almost scared look. "Eighteen hundred and sixty-six. It's funny you should ask that, miss. The other gentleman asked the exact same question." 

"And I bet Jamie's asking your Miss Maxtible that question right now. Look, what's going **on** here?" 

"It's not my place to speak out of turn, miss." Mollie opened a door, led Samantha into a bedroom, and curtseyed again. "This is Miss Waterfield's room, miss. She's away in France now, but all her clothes are still here. I'm sure she'd be happy to let you borrow one of her dresses, miss." 

She opened a wardrobe, and began to sort through the dresses. 

"Who actually lives in this house?" Samantha asked. "Normally, I mean. There's Miss Maxtible, and her dad. Where does this Miss Waterfield fit in?" 

"She's Professor Waterfield's daughter, miss. They came to live with the master – Professor Maxtible, that is – a few years ago. She was only a girl, then." 

"How old is she now?" 

"Sixteen, miss." Mollie turned round, her arms full of pink ruffles. "Here we are, then, miss. If you could take your dress off?" 

"What?" Samantha, who'd been trying, and failing, to imagine her sixteen- year-old self putting up with a room like this, spun round. "You're gonna hang around while I change?" 

"I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn, miss. But you'll need me when it comes to put this gown on. You can't do it up by yourself." 

"I suppose you dress Miss Waterfield and Miss Maxtible?" Samantha said, reluctantly unfastening her blouse. 

"Oh, yes, miss. Every day." 

"Live in a room like this, wear a dress like that..." Samantha shook her head. "Dunno about you, but if I was this girl I'd go mad in a week." 


	3. Episode 3

"And how are you getting on, Samantha?" the Doctor asked. 

Samantha remained in her chair, and didn't look up. 

"Glad you can tell it's me," she said. "In this dress, I look like I belong here." 

"Now, Sam, that's a very nice dress." The Doctor sat down opposite her. "Quite regal, in fact. And it's best if you try to fit in, at least for now. I'm not sure about your handbag, though. Is that the one you had at Gatwick?" 

"Yeah. Stupid, really. Look." She opened her bag. "My latchkey – for a flat that isn't there yet. Money, with the wrong queen on it. Train ticket home. That postcard from my brother, except he won't be born for another eighty-odd years. None of it's any good here." 

"But?" 

"But I'm hanging onto it so I know I'm still me. Not some Victorian girl who has dreams about being from the future." She folded her arms. "Anyway, what's going on here? Where's Jamie? And this girl, this Miss Waterfield." 

"What about her?" 

"Doctor, I've been in her room. They say she's in France but she's hardly taken any clothes. And only the one pair of shoes. It doesn't make sense." 

"You're quite right, Sam. I'm afraid Victoria isn't in France at all. She's being held prisoner somewhere quite close, probably in this house." 

"Held prisoner?" Samantha tried to jump to her feet, but the heavy dress forced her to move more sedately. "Who's holding her? Why aren't we trying to break her out?" 

"If we tried to help her escape, we'd probably be killed," the Doctor said. "And so would she. I'm afraid Victoria Waterfield is in the hands of the most evil creatures in the Universe: the Daleks. You'd better sit down again while I explain. This could take some time." 

Once the Doctor had finally reached the end of his explanation, Samantha sat back in her chair, feeling suddenly cold. 

"Half a mo," she said. "So these things want to kill us all, and they've got what it takes to do it. And if we sent for the police or the army or anyone, there's nothing they could do except get killed too." 

The Doctor smiled sorrowfully. "Very accurately put." 

"So how come we're still alive?" 

"I told you before that my skin was tingling," the Doctor said. "If the Daleks want us alive, it's because they think they can do more damage that way. And they do want us alive." 

"Doctor, is this something to do with Jamie? 'Cos you haven't said where he is yet." 

The Doctor took a deep breath. 

"Jamie is trying to find Victoria Waterfield," he said. "She's being held prisoner by the Daleks, and he's going to try and rescue her." 

"Won't the Daleks just kill him?" 

"No. At least, not yet. They want to analyse his reactions – see how he behaves in dangerous situations. I'm more worried about Victoria. To them she's just bait in the trap." 

"And when they don't need her any more..." 

"They will kill her. With less thought than you might give to swatting a fly." 

Samantha nodded. "You're telling me all this. Why? D'you want me to try and rescue her? Bit of a tall order. And why me and not you?" 

"The Daleks are keeping a close eye on me. They wouldn't let me interfere. But they may not pay so much attention to you. To them, you're just–" 

"Just a girl? Is that it? Just some dollybird in a dress to get pushed about?" Samantha's worries melted under her anger. "Don't worry, Doctor. I'll show these Daleks just what I can do." 

Without more ado, she stood, and set off purposefully. 

"Yes," the Doctor said quietly. "You will. I'll make sure of that." 


	4. Episode 4

Jamie ducked through the door, with Kemel close behind him. 

"Miss Waterfield–" he began, and broke off. Sitting on the narrow bed was Samantha, one finger to her lips. Another girl was stretched out on the bed, her head resting on Samantha's lap. Her resemblance to the portrait downstairs made it clear that this was none other than Victoria Waterfield. 

"She's asleep," Samantha whispered. "Poor kid. She's all in." 

"Is she all right?" Jamie asked, keeping his own voice low. 

"Dunno, I'm not a doctor. But I reckon she could do with decent meal and a good night's sleep." Samantha looked down at Victoria, and then up at Jamie. "Aren't you gonna ask how I got here before you?" 

"Maybe. If you were ever going to let me get a word in." 

"Well, it's quite simple. I reckoned if Victoria was somewhere in the house, she'd need to eat. So I asked around – see if anyone had noticed food disappearing. Turned out, yeah, there had been odds and ends getting pinched these last few days. Then I thought, she's round here somewhere, but it'll have to be where no-one ever goes. And Mollie said no-one's been in this bit of the house for months because of having the builders in." 

"That's plain enough," Jamie said, his voice rising in frustration. "But how did you **get** here?" 

Victoria's eyes flickered, and she yawned. 

"Oh," she said. "Who are... I must beg your pardon." 

She yawned again. 

"Don't worry, kid," Samantha said, stroking Victoria's hair. "It's only Jamie and a bloke who doesn't say anything. I said Jamie'd be along, didn't I?" 

"Indeed you did, Miss Briggs." Victoria managed, after one or two attempts, to sit up. "Please forgive me. You have all risked your lives for my sake, and I thank you by falling asleep. What must you think of me?" 

"I reckon they haven't been treating you properly. Anyway, if you still want to know, the other end of this passage is on one of the landings. It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to find it." 

"Who?" Victoria asked. 

"Who?" Jamie echoed. 

"Are you telling me you've never heard of... No, I suppose you wouldn't've. Anyway, I walked along from the kitchen as if I'd brought a snack with me, and all the way I looked at the carpet. You know carpets can look a bit different where people walk? Someone'd been going to a particular bit of wall. So I took a bit of a look at it. Tapped on all the panels and so on." 

"And so you discovered a concealed spring?" Victoria asked. "One that, by the merest touch, opens a sliding panel?" 

"Well... sort of. I couldn't find anything and I got so angry I just started thumping and kicking the wall where I thought the door ought to be. And that opened it. I reckon I might've broken the lock." 

Victoria looked shocked at the thought of such behaviour, but Jamie and Kemel nodded approvingly. 

"Have ye said all ye want to say now?" Jamie asked. 

"Pretty much, yeah. For the moment." 

"Then let's decide what we do. We need to get Victoria out of here now." 

"What about the way you came?" 

"That's no good. The Daleks are out there." 

"The window, then?" 

Victoria crossed to the window. "It's barred," she said, sounding slightly relieved that she wouldn't have to climb out. "Just like the other room I was in." 

Kemel joined her at the window, examined the bars, and gave them a speculative tug. 

"Can't we just use your secret passage?" Jamie asked. 

"Problem there is, what if someone's waiting at the other end?" Samantha said. "That passage was put there at the same time all the other work was done. It's part of whatever plan the Daleks are up to." 

A splintering sound made her look round. Kemel was facing them, the mangled remains of an iron grille in his hands. Behind him, the window was open to the night. He smiled at the trio's awed expressions. 

"But we still can't get down," Victoria said. "It's far too high to jump." 

Jamie crossed to the bed and pulled the sheets off. 

"We can twist this lot into a rope," he suggested. 

"I'll do that," Samantha said. "You can try and block up the door. And the secret passage. We don't want anyone coming in on us." 


	5. Episode 5

A very little time later, Samantha was clambering down the improvised rope. She'd insisted on going first, just in case there was something dangerous at the bottom. The most difficult part had been getting through the window in her cumbersome dress; after that, dropping from knot to knot had been pretty straightforward, though the occasional tearing sound from the twisted sheets wasn't exactly encouraging. 

The sheets gave out while she was still some way off the ground, and she had to jump the last bit, landing awkwardly in a flower bed. Once she'd got her breath back, she looked up at the window she'd climbed out of. 

"I can't believe I did that," she muttered to herself, and tried to call up to the three figures at the window while still keeping her voice low. "I'm fine, guys. Victoria, you're next." 

It seemed to take Victoria even longer than Samantha had to get through the window, and there was then an agonising wait before she could nerve herself to begin the climb down. Samantha could see Jamie's silhouette in the window, and hear the general tone of encouragement in his voice. Behind him, Kemel was no doubt still holding onto the other end of the rope. 

While Victoria was still aloft, Samantha heard the same sound of rending cloth she'd heard before. But this was much more prolonged. 

"The rope's going," she called. "Hurry up before it–" 

The rope chose that moment to disintegrate completely. Victoria landed more or less on top of her with an ear-piercing shriek, and the tattered remains of the rope fell onto both of them. As quickly as she could, Samantha scrambled to her feet and pulled Victoria up. 

"Are you all right?" she asked. "Can you walk?" 

"I... I think so." In the darkness, it was impossible to see Victoria's expression, but she sounded shaken. 

"Good. 'Cos we've gotta get out of here right now, before someone comes to find out what that noise was." 

"Are you both all right?" Jamie's voice called down from above. 

"Yeah," Samantha replied. "Look, we can't hang around." 

"No, you two get moving. Kemel and I'll have to risk yon secret passage." 

"See you later, then. Come on, kid, let's go and find your dad." 

She caught Victoria's hand, took a few paces, and realised something. 

"Er... Where do we go?" she asked. 

"This way," Victoria said, and set off at the best approximation to a run that their dresses would allow. The night was darker and more silent than any Samantha had known, and their footsteps seemed to echo for miles. Samantha, accustomed to street lights, found herself straining her eyes, trying to make sense of shadows that refused to grow any clearer. Despite the lateness of the hour, a few windows in the house were dimly lit, and as they passed each one they would able to see what they were doing; then it would be back to scrambling blindly through flowerbeds or clambering over low walls. More than once, one or other of them would catch her foot or slip, inevitably sending both of them sprawling. Every branch seemed to be a clutching hand, grabbing at their dresses. 

As the pair hurried past what appeared to be the window of the entrance hall, Victoria suddenly came to a stop. Staring out at them was Mollie, her arms full of luggage. As Victoria and Samantha approached, she opened the window, still looking shocked. 

"Miss Waterfield!" she began. "But the master said you were in Paris. And the state of you..." 

"Look, we've not got the time," Samantha said. "Can you let us in?" 

"Of course, miss." Mollie crossed to the front door of the house, and opened it. "It's lucky you caught me, miss. If Miss Maxtible hadn't ordered the coach to be made ready..." 

"At this hour?" Victoria asked. 

"Yes, miss. She's leaving with Mr. Terrall, any minute now, and I'll be going with them. The Doctor said we all had to leave at once, or our lives would be in danger." 

"Tell her Victoria's coming too," Samantha said. 

Victoria shook her head. "Not without my father." 

"Look, I'll find your dad. You get along to the stables, now." 

"I shall do no such thing." 

Samantha looked at Victoria. Her escape seemed to have revived her; though she looked tired, bruised, dirty, and scared half to death, there was a new air of resolve about her that told Samantha argument would be useless. 

"Good on you, kid," she said. "Where do you think he might be?" 

"There was a light in the laboratory window," Victoria said. "He could well be there. Come with me – and please don't call me 'kid'." 

The laboratory turned out to be only a short distance away. Victoria, seemingly through habit, knocked at the door. It was opened by her father, whose careworn expression turned to amazed joy as he saw who was there. 

"My child," he murmured, gathering her into his arms. "My dear child..." 

Samantha shuffled her feet. She had both the uncomfortable feeling of intruding on a private event, and a nagging dread that someone was chasing them and would soon catch up. She managed to catch Victoria's eye, and coughed. 

"Father," Victoria said, her new-found determination still evident. "We must leave at once, if we are to escape from the Daleks. Ruth has already ordered the carriage." 

"Yes, yes. By the time those creatures realise that you are no longer in their power, we need to be far away from here." Waterfield turned to Samantha. "Miss Briggs, I cannot thank you enough for rescuing my daughter..." 

"Don't bother trying," Samantha said. "Just get out while you can." 

With more hurried protestations of gratitude, the two set off down the corridor. Samantha took a few steps as if to follow them, then leaned against the wall, feeling suddenly drained. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but all that blundering about in the garden had knackered her. Briefly, she imagined herself collapsing to the floor and swooning like a proper Victorian girl would, and then shook her head. There was so much still to do. Somewhere in this rabbit warren of a building, Jamie and Kemel were doubtless looking for her. Then there was Professor Maxtible. She hadn't met him yet. At this time of night, he'd be in bed, if he had any sense – but perhaps he was awake, like everyone else seemed to be, helping the Daleks run their experiment. And while she was on the subject of Daleks and their experiments, what had become of the Doctor? 

She looked back at the invitingly ajar laboratory door. If she was going to look for the Doctor, here was as good a place as any. She stepped through the door. 

The Doctor wasn't there. Indeed, the place seemed deserted. The door was some way above floor level; it looked as if the room had been converted from an old vault or wine cellar. A long bench was filled with glass vessels, some containing liquid, others dusty and empty. Lengths of wire were attached to some of these. To Samantha, it all looked very old-fashioned, even compared to the rest of the house. 

At the far end of the room was a wooden door with a pointed top. Close to this door were two large packing cases, easily large enough to hold a person. On the off-chance that the Doctor might be in the room beyond the door, Samantha cautiously descended the stairs and crossed the floor. As she passed the closest packing case, she ran her fingers over it. It wasn't wood or metal, but some kind of plastic. And plastic hadn't been invented yet. She stopped and looked more closely at the crate, wondering what was in it. Whoever had brought this here wasn't a nineteenth-century human. 

"STAY WHERE YOU ARE," a harsh, metallic voice shouted at her. 

Samantha spun round. She found herself face to face with a dome-topped machine, not much smaller than the packing cases. Its lower half was studded with hemispheres, and two twitching mechanical appendages protruded from its slatted midsection, from which a cylindrical enclosure rose up to support the dome. A third protrusion, mounted on the dome itself, was pointed at her, the white disc at the end irising open and closed like a camera. 

The Dalek looked her up and down. 

"YOU ARE OUR PRISONER," it said. 


	6. Episode 6

The cell door slid open. Samantha jumped up, but it was only two more Daleks. 

"What's going on?" she demanded. 

"YOU DO NOT BELONG TO THE TIME WHERE YOU WERE FOUND," the first Dalek said. 

Samantha put her hands on her hips and leaned forward, trying to outstare the Dalek's eyestalk. 

"Yeah?" she demanded. "How d'you make that out?" 

The Dalek's plunger shot out, touching the handbag that she was still clutching in her left hand. 

"SYNTHETIC MATERIALS," it said. The arm retracted, taking the handbag with it, snatching the handle out of Samantha's hand. 

"Hey!" Samantha shouted. "That's mine! Give it here–" 

She darted forward, already reaching out for her bag. But as she did so, there was a harsh noise beside her, like a metal sheet being torn in half. For a second, she seemed to be waist-deep in a pool of glaring blue-white light. Then, as the light faded, she pitched forward onto the floor, unable to feel her legs at all. 

"Not again," she groaned. 

"THE PARALYSIS IS NOT PERMANENT," the Dalek said, gazing impassively down at her. 

"You little..." Samantha bit back the words. 

"YOU ARE ALIVE BECAUSE YOU ARE USEFUL TO US. YOU ARE A COMPANION OF THE DOK-TOR. HE WILL BE TOLD THAT IF HE INTERFERES YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED." 

"So you can't kill me," Samantha said. "Or you won't have a hostage." 

"BUT YOU CAN STILL FEEL PAIN," the Dalek retorted. "OBEY THE DALEKS OR YOU WILL BE PUNISHED." 

The Dalek, or as much as she could see of it from her position on the floor, glided away. The door closed behind it. 

"Well, prof," she said. "What d'you make of your friends now? Still reckon they'll keep their promises?" 

Maxtible sounded as if he hadn't even looked up from his notebook. "Have you still not learned the folly of your insolent ways?" 

Samantha tried to wriggle round, so she could see him, but the bottom half of her felt like something on a butcher's slab. Dragging herself with her arms was slow and painful, and in the end she had to make do with looking back at him over her shoulder. 

"Look," she said. "I'm from what you'd call the future. And you still can't change lead into gold. Don't you get it? They're taking you for a ride." 

"As if a chit such as you would know anything of science." 

"Maybe all I've got is a General Science O-Level, but I know when someone's being strung along. And right now, that's you, wack. Why don't you–" 

The door slid open again. From her position on the floor, Samantha could see three pairs of legs and several more Dalek casings. 

"Samantha!" Jamie's voice said. A moment later he was kneeling beside her. "What have they done to you?" 

"SHE HAS BEEN IMMOBILISED," a Dalek said. "SHE WILL RECOVER IN TIME." 

"I can't move my legs," Samantha added. 

"If you've harmed Samantha, you can forget about any help from me!" That was the Doctor's voice. 

"No, they said I'd recover. Can you–" 

"WE WILL RETURN WHEN YOU ARE NEEDED," the Daleks said, and glided out. It looked almost as if they were backing away, keeping their eyestalks on the Doctor in case he tried anything. 

"Nice blokes," Samantha said. "I was saying, can you give us a hand?" 

Jamie and the Doctor lifted her between them, and helped her onto the bench which ran round the cell. The third pair of legs turned out to belong to Kemel, who gave her a reassuring nod. 

"What happened?" she asked. "Did Victoria and her dad get away?" 

"They did," the Doctor assured her. "They came running up just as the carriage was setting out. It must have been quite a squeeze in there. Still, they had enough time to get clear." 

"Get clear of what?" 

"The Daleks left a bomb in the laboratory," Jamie said. "I'd reckon there's not much left of that house now... well, whenever 'now' is. But the Doctor managed to follow them, and he brought Kemel and me along with him." 

"Did you get out of that secret passage all right?" 

"Oh, aye. We ran into yon Terrall fellow, but we soon got the better of him. After that we were looking for you and the Doctor for ages. By the time we found him, the coach was long gone, so Kemel stayed with us." 

Samantha glanced across at Maxtible, who was still studiously ignoring them. 

"Have you found out what the Daleks are up to?" she asked. 

"I've got a few notions," the Doctor said. "As I said, the Daleks were trying to analyse Jamie's reactions, to discover something they call the Human Factor. They plan to augment their own intelligence with human instincts and emotions." He looked fondly at Samantha. "Of course, since you happened to be making your own way to where Victoria was held, I was able to use some of your instincts and emotions as well." 

"You mean the whole thing was a set-up?" 

"With the Daleks, you can never be quite sure," the Doctor said. "Victoria got out alive; that was the important thing." 

"And what about us? Do we get out alive?" 

"That depends. If the choice is between stopping the Daleks and getting out in one piece, then we must stop the Daleks. Our lives against the lives of everyone on Earth – it isn't really a choice, is it?" 

"Yeah, I suppose so." Samantha shivered. "Can someone hang onto me? I'm about to fall off this thing." 

The Doctor obligingly pulled her back onto the seat. 

"Can you feel anything in your legs yet?" he asked her. 

"Only pins and needles." She pulled her skirt up to knee height. "Tell you what. Jamie, can you rub my legs? Maybe it'll help." 

"Are you sure–" 

"'Course I'm sure. And if seeing my legs gives old miseryguts over there a heart attack, too bad. He deserves it." 


	7. Episode 7

"Kemel!" Samantha shouted, but it was too late. Before she could move a muscle, the Turk had thrown himself in front of the Doctor, just as the black Dalek opened fire. The glare was far brighter than when she'd been paralysed, and for a moment Kemel was silhouetted against the glare. Years afterwards, usually after waking from a nightmare, Samantha would wonder whether she'd really seen Kemel's skeleton glowing through his flesh, or whether that was just imagination. But whichever it was, the process was quick. In seconds Kemel lay dead on the floor. 

Samantha and Jamie stood, rooted to the spot. All the Dalek had to do was fire again– 

But before it could, two grey Daleks had emerged from a side passage and fired on the black Dalek. It exploded, adding to the already pervasive flames and clouds of smoke. 

"Come on!" Jamie said, taking her hand. 

"We can't just leave him." Samantha looked down at Kemel, trying to blink tears away. "He saved the Doctor's life." 

"There's nothing we can do for him now. And if we hang around we'll die too." 

"Jamie's right, I'm afraid," the Doctor said. "You wouldn't want Kemel to have sacrificed his life in vain, would you? Now, come along." 

He took Samantha's hand, and led her along the corridor. The grey Daleks watched them go, making no attempt to intervene. 

Samantha glanced at Jamie, wondering how he was feeling. He'd been in a war, or so he'd said. How many comrades had he seen killed before now? Was that what enabled him to take Kemel's death so calmly? 

"The TARDIS can't be far away," the Doctor was saying. "All we need to– oh, dear." 

Samantha looked up. They'd just rounded a bend in the corridor, and come face to face with Maxtible, his eyes wild, the corners of his mouth flecked with spittle. 

"Exterminate," he hissed, advancing upon them. "Exterminate." 

"Can't we grab him and put him through the arch?" Samantha asked. "Like those Daleks?" 

"It isn't safe." The Doctor retreated again. "He'd kill us before we could overpower him." 

Another Dalek chose this moment to appear in the corridor, beyond Maxtible. It swivelled and raised its gunstick, lining up a shot; from Samantha's point of view, it wasn't clear which of the four possible targets it was aiming at. 

"Is that one of ours?" she asked. 

"I don't know." The Doctor squeezed her hand. "I can't see from here whether it's got one of my marks. But if it isn't, I'm afraid this is the end of all of us." 

Maxtible looked round. 

"Those people are enemies!" he shouted. "Destroy them! Exterminate!" 

The Dalek considered this. 

"SHUT IT," it retorted, its mechanical voice exhibiting a marked Liverpool accent. "WHO SAID YOU COULD ORDER ME ABOUT?" 

"That girl–" Maxtible snarled. "You are contaminated. Destroy!" 

He staggered towards the Dalek, which fired at him, the bolt hitting his shoulder. But whatever conditioning or madness now reigned in his mind drove him on. He threw himself onto the Dalek, clawing at its hemispheres. 

"Come on," the Doctor whispered. 

"But isn't yon Dalek on our side?" Jamie said, as they edged past the combatants. 

"At the moment, yes, but I don't know how long that'll last. Those Daleks that went through the arch have got all of Samantha's temper and, well, intractability." 

"Her what?" 

"Pig-headedness," Samantha said. "You can say it if you like, Doctor, 'cos it's true." 

"Anyway," the Doctor continued, "they're not inclined to take orders from anyone. And at some point they're going to start wondering what we're doing here." 

Jamie suddenly stopped and pointed at something Samantha couldn't see clearly through the smoke. "Look! The TARDIS!" 

"You're right, Jamie. Come on." 

"Does this TARDIS of yours have any spare clothes in it?" Samantha asked. "'Cos I need to get out of this dress. I've been in it since yesterday morning, I hated it then, and it hasn't got any better since." 

"Well, you've hardly been gentle to it," the Doctor remarked. "As for spare clothes, I'm sure we'll find something to suit you. Should I ask what happened to your handbag?" 

"Those Daleks took it." They were slowing down; the TARDIS must be near here. Samantha looked around, but all she could see through the dust and smoke was a tall wooden box painted blue. "And my other clothes must've gone up when they blew up the house. It's like there's nothing left of my life– Is that a **police box**?" 

"That's the TARDIS," Jamie said, patting it fondly. 

Samantha ran her hands over the faded paint. The box was vibrating faintly, as if there was a big transformer or something in there. 

"All right," she said. "This is your time machine, right?" 

"That's right." 

The Doctor produced a key from his trouser pocket and unlocked the TARDIS. 

"In you go, Jamie," he said. 

Jamie disappeared into the narrow opening. 

"Now you, Sam. Welcome aboard." 

"Okay." Samantha shrugged. "You've got a time machine that looks like a police box. After everything else I've seen, I can cope with that." She stepped through the doors, still talking. "Nothing's gonna surprise me after thi–" 


End file.
